This last assertion produced an instant and evident sensation throughout the whole place. The judge on the bench, with whom were seated several noblemen and gentlemen of the county, the counsel at the bar, the people throughout the court, were engaged in conversation on it. There was a general buzz and murmur of voices in the court, when the clerk of the arraigns called, “Silence!” and Mr. Balguy began with his witnesses. He produced a number of farmers of the neighbourhood, who declared that they had heard the severest language of hatred used by their labourers against Mr. Drury, adding they would not be in his shoes for a trifle. They said this was not only on account of his using so much machinery, but on account of his timing them, and docking their wages, and his slave-driving way, as they called it. Many labourers were called who gave the same evidence. Mr. Balguy then called several haymakers to show that Mr. Woodburn’s words were, not that he wished something would fortunately rid the country of Mr. Drury, but that some fortunate circumstance would take him somewhere else. He next showed by the evidence of Mr. Drury’s own bailiff, who was in the meadows when Mr. Drury left, that it was half-past six o’clock by his watch, and then by the evidence of George Woodburn and Betty Trapps that Mr. Woodburn entered the house exactly as the old cuckoo clock in the hall struck six. That the time of the bailiff and of the clock at Woodburn Grange agreed, was also proved by the people of both farms going to and returning from work at exactly the same hour, morning, noon and evening.
This evidence having been gone through, Mr. Balguy said that little more was required. He would only remark that it was shown that there were many persons in the neighbourhood hostile to Mr. Drury. That Mr. Woodburn’s words in the hay-field were meant by him to express a wish that some stewardship, such as his eminent agricultural talents warranted, might call Mr. Drury from a neighbourhood where his views were not favourably received. That was the “fortunate” circumstance which Mr. Woodburn alluded to. Then, as he had shown by a complete alibi that Mr. Woodburn could not possibly be at Wink’s Ferry when Mr. Drury lost his life, he contended first, that if that catastrophe were a murder, it could not have been perpetrated by Mr. Woodburn; and secondly, that it had yet to be shown that it was a murder at all. He was, therefore, sure that the jury would acquit his client instantly and entirely.
The judge in summing up, came to the same conclusion. It was, he said, for the jury to decide, whether what had been shown to be impossible, if the respectable evidence of Mr. Drury’s own bailiff, and of the family of the prisoner as to time, was to be believed, could be possible: for his own part he did not believe in impossibilities. The jury consulted for a moment, and the foreman arose and declared the unanimous verdict to be—Not Guilty!
The effect of these words was an instant burst of uproarious applause throughout the court. Hats were waved violently; white handkerchiefs were waved as actively; the friends of the prisoner were shaking hands with one another, and rushing to shake hands with him, and all the time the judge was looking half-menacingly, half-laughingly, and saying something that nobody could hear, and the clerk of arraigns was shouting “Order! order!” with all his might. Of course the judge was trying to tell the offenders that if they did not keep quiet he must order them into custody, which was such an excellent joke, the offenders being the whole assembly, except a few of the Rockville and Bullockshed clan, who looked dark and significant of dissent, that old Baron Garrow, who dearly loved a joke, enjoyed the uproar as much as any of them.
Sir Henry Clavering had slipped away by a private door from the court, and run to carry the news to the family of Mr. Woodburn, who were awaiting in direst anxiety the result of the trial. They were standing at the window ready to catch the first sign of an approaching messenger, when a triumphant wave of his hat made them aware that all was right, and he rushed into the house to find himself caught and embraced and kissed and wet all over with tears of joy by every one there. Quickly came Sir Henry’s carriage, bringing Mr. Woodburn and George. We must leave the reader to imagine the scenes that followed. The husband and father stood amongst them once more, freed from every charge or shadow of suspicion of the odious crime imputed to him. That same evening a long train of carriages was seen driving from Mrs. Thorsby’s house out of the town, and taking the way towards Woodburn. There were those of Mr. Degge, of Mr. Heritage, Mr. Fairfax, Sir Henry Clavering, and the worthy Counsellor Balguy, as he was commonly called all through the Midland Counties. The bells were ringing in the steeples of Castleborough, and they were ringing at Cotmanhaye—Woodburn had no church—for Sir Henry Clavering had previously arranged all that in a most liberal manner, and that evening Mr. Woodburn stood once more under his own roof a free and unblemished man. All through Woodburn flags and garlands of evergreens, and shouting men, and women all tears and smiles, had made the drive a triumph. When these accompanying friends had taken their leave, and the happy family were left to themselves as in some strange dream, Ann came and softly dropped on her knees by her father, and taking his hand said, amidst tears of gladness—“Well, dearest father, God’s time is come!”
Mr. Woodburn stooped and kissed her affectionately, and said, “True, dear child, true—let us forget the hour and the power of darkness. You are far wiser than I am.”
“No, dear father,” said Ann. “No—the truth is, you have been tried far more than I have. But thank God that all this is over!”
CHAPTER III.
A WONDERFUL DREAM.
In the flush of happiness which immediately followed the acquittal of Mr. Woodburn, the long-deferred marriage of Ann Woodburn was celebrated. Sir Henry Clavering had proved himself a most noble and indefatigable friend through the whole dark season, and all were eager to confer on him his long and patiently sought prize, and to claim him as one of the family of the Grange. It was a pleasant morning in April when the wedding took place, the ceremony being performed by Sir Henry’s worthy uncle, Thomas Clavering, assisted by Mr. Markham, who, to his honour be it said, had most heartily protested against what he termed the atrocious prosecution of Mr. Woodburn. Not only was the outward spring breaking forth with her buds and dews and violets, but the inner spring of peace and joy was come back to the lovely fields of Woodburn. We need not say that all Woodburn, many friends from Castleborough, Cotmanhaye Manor, and all round there, some even from Rockville, had flocked to this auspicious scene, and many a warm wish was sent after the happy pair as they dashed away after the breakfast at the Grange, in Sir Henry’s carriage, on their way towards Paris. God’s blessing go with them, was the fervent prayer of the crowd of felicitating friends, as it is ours.